


A Little Present for You

by flyicarus



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Captain America (2011), Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Evanstan - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyicarus/pseuds/flyicarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is in California, and Sebastian misses him; in order to entice him to  come back to New York, he sends him a little (racy) present in his email. Chris approves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Present for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antiquitea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiquitea/gifts).



Chris knows there’s an email waiting for him, and he knows that it’s from Sebastian, because Seb texted him saying that he should check his email and make sure he’s alone when he does. That can’t be a good sign. He should probably care about the fact that he’s pretty much head over heels for this man, and that the man in question is simultaneously texting him dirty things while dating who Chris is assumes a really nice woman, but hey, he’ll take what he can get. He’s the one that lacks the conviction to actually ask Sebastian to make a choice, or tell him that what they have means more than hot fucks in hotel rooms or phone sex.  
  
He should probably take care of that.  
  
Three hours later, he’s out of his meeting with Marvel executives; Bob asks him if he wants to catch lunch with him and Susan, and maybe help him pick out a stuffed animal for his kid. Chris thinks he can handle that on his own, so he promises another time, and then heads back to his hotel room as quickly as possible. It’s nice enough, all light colors, maximizing the room, and the slider to the balcony is open, the warm breeze causing the curtains to waft.  
  
He immediately grabs his laptop off the counter and carries it into his bedroom, kicking off his shoes along the way. He tosses his Red Sox cap into the corner of the room haphazardly, toeing off his socks before he flops down on the bed. He unlocks his laptop and then goes straight to his email, humming quietly as he ignores two from his brother and mom, as well as one from his agent, in favour of checking Sebastian’s.  
  
The title is “a little present for you,” and Chris feels heat pool low in his belly at the thought of what it must be. He opens the video attachment and Quicktime opens to reveal Sebastian’s face, gloriously stubbled, his hair all too fluffy - he can tell that the younger man probably woke up from a nap, or hasn’t bothered brushing his hair all day. The fact that he knows Sebastian like this should be troubling, but it isn’t.  
  
“Hey, Chris,” Sebastian says, clearly laying down in his own bed in New York. Chris tries not to think of if Jennifer’s been there.  
  
“I miss you,” he says, giving a smile to the camera, and Chris reaches out, brushing his fingers along the screen lightly, murmuring that he misses Sebastian too, even though he can’t hear him and this video was recorded hours ago.  
  
“I hope you’re having a good time out in California. I sure wish you’d come to New York, but I know you have to go to Boston, see your family. I just...”  
  
Sebastian pauses, looking down, and Chris can see his brow furrow, give himself a wry smile, before he looks back up to the camera, a small, sad smile in its place.  
  
“I really miss you. Things are getting kind of crazy here, and I’m trying to figure things out but it’s complicated, you know? Half the time I’m not sure of what I feel, and then the rest of the time, it all comes so intensely that I don’t know if I trust it. I know it’s true, though. I know what I feel is real, it’s just … coming to terms with that, that’s the problem. And I know it’s hard for you. I can only imagine how hard this is for you. But I’m trying, I promise.” Here, Sebastian gives him a fond smile, and Chris can tell that he’s genuine. He can read the younger man that way.  
  
Whatever he’d expected when he’d gotten Sebastian’s texts and the email, he’d not expected a huge exposition on feelings, or the fact that whatever the other man felt for Chris, that it was enough to cause some conflict within him, let alone one that seemed to be going in his favour.  
  
“Anyway, I figure, we can always count on what we’re good at. The sex. And believe me, Chris, I wish I was there with you. You fuck me so good,” he begins, voice lowering, and Chris lets out a soft moan, rolling onto his back and pulling off his shirt and then working at the button and zip of his jeans, knowing that soon, he’ll be needing to have them off.  
  
He pushes his jeans and boxers down hurriedly, just as Sebastian lets out a quiet moan, murmuring, “Chris, I miss your cock,” and Chris turns, pulling the computer closer, just in time to see Sebastian rearrange himself, pushing his laptop away so that the viewer - in this case, Chris - can get a nice view of his stretched out, gloriously naked body, hard cock curving up toward his stomach. Chris lets out a low whimper, climbing up onto his hands and knees so he can keep looking at the laptop screen.  
  
One of his hands goes straight to his cock, already hard and leaking just from the few moments with Sebastian talking dirty. His other arm supports his weight, and he spreads his legs a bit more, stroking himself slowly, watching Sebastian do the same.  
  
“Oh, Chris,” Sebastian moans, head tilting back, exposing the column of his throat and the sharp line of his jaw. Chris wants to be there beside him, wants to lick and nip at the skin there, and he makes a memo to himself to do that the next time they’re together. “I miss you, miss you so bad. Want you to fuck me, your - _ah_ \- your big cock filling me up. God, fuck me so hard, get me moaning and writhing against you, so eager to come, feeling so much. Oh, I want it, I want it,” the younger man practically whines, bucking up into his fist.  
  
Chris lets out another moan, starts stroking his length faster, thumb swiping over the head on every other upstroke, and his hips cant into the touch so that he’s fucking his own fist, though he wished desperately that it was Sebastian’s instead. It’s not just the sight of Sebastian getting himself off that gets to Chris; it’s the way he sounds, the fact that he recorded this just for him, and the intimacy almost makes him that much harder. “Baz, oh fuck,” he manages, voice thick and taut with desire.  
  
He feels warm all over, skin and nerves on fire from how much he wants this man, and he can’t stop the soft cries that work their way out of him on every exhale. Chris can barely catch his breath, and when he does, it comes out in quick soft little pants. He’s watching Sebastian with a hazy and heavy-lidded gaze now, and--  
  
“Chris, I - oh fuck - I just,” Sebastian manages, though it’s not much and his words are punctuated by half-sobbed moans and hoarse cries, and he lets out a breathless chuckle. He can’t even find words. “See what you do to me?” the other man gasps, turning his head to look at the computer as he fucks up into the curl of his fist, the slick sound just barely audible, and the obscenity of it causes Chris to whimper, stroking himself faster, hips rocking to meet his hand.  
  
Sebastian doesn’t speak anymore after that, not that Chris minds terribly; he’s too far gone to be able to form coherent thought, anyway. All he cares about is watching this wonderful man jerk himself off while thinking about him, and getting himself off to it. He only has Sebastian, and he imagines that it’s his hand he’s fucking instead of his own, and he tries to keep his eyes open, tries to keep watching him, but it’s so _hard-_  
  
His cries rise in crescendo with Sebastian’s own, and Chris is pretty sure that the sounds he lets out are pathetic, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s so close, can feel the tightening in his balls and the heat pooling at the base of his spine, and when he sees Sebastian’s back arch up sharply, hips bucking into his fist as he cries out Chris’ name, his own orgasm catches him by surprise.  
  
Sebastian’s name is a desperate cry on his lips as he arches his back sharply and thrusts hard into his palm, spilling over his hand, his body wracked with small, helpless shudders as he works himself through his release. Chris’ fingers tear into the sheets beneath him as he continues to buck into his hand, moaning wantonly, not wanting it to be over. God, he needs Sebastian, needs to have his body against his, needs to be able to kiss him and mark him, just _needs him_.  
  
He opens his eyes, turning his gaze back to the video just as Sebastian rolls over onto his stomach, his lips parted, a flush high on his cheeks and his pupils still blown as he looks into the camera, giving it a lazy, satisfied smile. That bastard.  
  
“Miss you,” Sebastian repeats, his voice totally wrecked. “I’ll see you soon.”  
  
The video stops, and Chris can’t stop the low whine that escapes him. That was the best goddamned video he’s ever seen in his life; beats the ones on YouTube where they found Waldo, or that cat on Adderall that Anna had shown him while they were filming in Boston. It was the best video, and he can’t believe that it’s over. He knows that he’ll save it, and he does. (By the time he finally makes his way back to Boston, he’s watched it five times, and he feels zero shame.)  
  
He sends a text to Sebastian when he’s finally able to function, his breath returning to normal.  
  
 _I miss you, too. Can’t wait to see you - I’m coming to NY the first week of August. You better be ready._

 


End file.
